


Here in Our Time

by snowbellewells



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:21:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27034846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowbellewells/pseuds/snowbellewells
Summary: A post-Season Six interludeEmma brings a bit of their encounter in the past into the present for her husband...
Relationships: Captain Hook | Killian Jones & Emma Swan
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12





	Here in Our Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kmomof4](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kmomof4/gifts).



> This little one shot is meant to be canon compliant, though it’s definitely set somewhere in the vague post-Season Six happy beginning domesticity we didn’t get to see. This is meant to have some definite married CS sexy times, but M-rated writing isn’t my strongest suit, so bear with me and try not to laugh or cringe too much. I wanted to give Krystal some enjoyable smuff (it is her birthday after all!) so I did my best.

“Here in Our Time”

(a birthday gift for Krystal @kmomof4)

A knowing smile quirked Emma’s lips up on one side, rather pleased with herself as she studied the full effect just a few moments more in the full-length mirror of their shared bedroom.  _ ‘That ought to do it,’ _ she finally decided with a nod to herself for emphasis.  _ ‘He won’t know what hit him.’  _ Even thinking momentarily of just how her husband might react to the outfit she was currently assessing made her eyes twinkle mischeivously and a little frisson of nervous excitement ripple low in her belly.

_ ‘Yep,’  _ she concluded, trying to steady her nerves and steel a wavering resolve, even as she turned away and began to pull her completely normal and honestly a bit worn and ratty old terry cloth robe over the costume of sorts before Killian returned home from his shift at the station with her father. She had to allow herself a moment of self-satisfaction at least for what she knew to be true.  _ ‘Once he puts his tongue back in his mouth, he’ll be putty in my hands.’  _ Even after almost six years married and Killian’s ardent devotion never failing, Emma still sometimes couldn’t help but doubt her appeal, especially when going out of her comfort zone, but she was going to push through for him with this. 

Just as she’d covered the sinfully low cut and almost unbearably tight corset, garters and stockings with an overlarge open necked shirt of his and cinched the robe so Killian didn’t see it all before she intended, Emma heard his voice booming out from downstairs as he came in the front door. “Hello, Swan!” his deep, melodious accent gave her nickname an exclamation of joy, even after all their time together. “Are you home?”

“Upstairs!” she called back, attempting to sound as ordinary as possible and to quell any tremors - both of anticipation and nerves - in her voice. “Actually, Babe,” she added, smirking knowingly as she could hear that the thump of his footsteps on the wooden floors below were already moving toward the stairs without her even prompting. “Can you come up here and help me with something?”

“Aye, Love, on my way!” he answered easily, and as she heard his stride on the steps she tried to still her pounding heart, check the long, cascading ringlets she’d painstakingly curled her hair into, to be sure they still cascaded down her shoulders just right, take one last glance at the more dramatic makeup she had applied to her eyes and lips, and survey the room with candles on various surfaces casting the only dimly flickering light. It was light she hoped might not only lend a romantic atmosphere, but also echo the dusk of a dockside tavern long ago - a moment the two of them had not been able to fulfill and which she hoped to bring to mind now for reenactment.

The idea had come to roost in her mind some weeks ago, as she’d begun to pull out sweaters and flannels for the fall season and started to muse on what they might choose for costumes in the Couples Costume Contest Killian and David were ridiculously competitive about at her mother’s brainchild, the now five-years-old Harvest Festival that involved all of Storybrooke. Henry was now away at college, and though he had promised a long weekend to them at Thanksgiving, he had wanted to stay on campus for the Land Without Magic’s Halloween fesitivities. She’d been a bit teary about it; the silly holiday having been a favorite of she and her son’s since he found her almost a decade ago - and especially in the cursed memories where they’d always been together and she had taken him trick-or-treating and then crashed on the couch with candy and popcorn for movies once they were home with all the loot they could carry. Her husband had simply held her, soothing strokes of the curve of his hook over her shoulders as she processed the change. He didn’t rush her to accept that her boy was growing up or lecture her that she needed to let go, or push her into some needless distraction, instead he only murmured huskily in her ear, “Oh Emma, I know it must be hard. You had less time with him than you deserved. But he loves you, Darling. That will never change. He is merely beginning his own story as well.”

She had nodded and remarkably had felt a bit better despite a few sniffles over the course of the evening. And from then on, the idea had been planted. Perhaps it was time for a new addition to their autumn traditions as well - an epilogue of sorts for the two of them alone. She wanted it to be something wonderful, an expression she could give her husband of her thanks and love and desire; the potent mix of emotions he brought out in her again and again.

That was when the idea had struck her - and simply would not let go until she made it reality. It was a bit Halloween camp, a bit costume role-play, and - she hoped - a full helping of personal nostalgia for the journey the two of them had taken to get to where they were, married and more deeply in love than ever. Killian had adjusted so seamlessly to life on land, life in the modern world, life in an everyday small town with a large, crazy unpredictable, nosey and over-involved extended family; in fact, sometimes she thought he took to that last part better than she did. Still, she ached for him sometimes, knowing there had been things he adored that he had given up to stay with she and Henry for the long haul: the open sea, adventure and freedom and travels wherever the wind took him on his beloved ship. She knew he would swear it had been a sacrifice worth making, that he had gained so much more in return. She could only hope there wasn’t regret and sadness he didn’t show. Emma knew she had not been easy to love, particularly at their beginning. She still cringed to think of how she had made him prove himself again and again, failing to trust him because of the life she had lived and the people who had hurt her before him.

So, here she was, trying to give him a tiny bit of his old world - a pirate’s hideaway with a willing companion, the sort of debauched escapade he must have had easily whenever he wished, once upon a time. And, if it reminded him of one of the moments he first truly flattened a section of her walls and she had trusted him with her body, her safety, and her very being and future - well, so much the better. She hoped her ensemble would bring to mind the pilfered corset and skirt she had worn on their trip to the past, of them whispering together on a bench in a tavern and then returning to the ship of his past self for a nightcap. “I love every part of you….every bit of our life here and now,” he had told her more times than she could count, and yet Emma couldn’t help but think he must sometimes wish for a few familiar things from his realm and time, the sort of things that would have once attracted him. And she could give him that.

Fidgeting anxiously, as she finally flung the robe away on the floor, knowing now that Killian was going to step right into her little tableau as planned and she wouldn’t have to go downstairs seeking him, Emma tried against her rather more no-nonsense nature to strike a seductive pose where she perched on the edge of the seat at her vanity, waiting for her husband to enter the room.

Killian stepped through the door already speaking, “Is everything alright, Love? You said you needed he - ” The word trailed off on his tongue and he froze in place, looking as stunned as if he had been struck by some spell. He stood there for enough time - seconds that seemed endless to Emma where she struggled not to squirm on display as she was - that she began to fear that she’d been wrong, that he somehow didn’t like it, a reminder he hadn’t wanted after all, or that she had somehow stopped his heart completely. Trying to shake off the moment of uncertainty, even knowing her voice was going to quaver, she shrugged his soft, black pirate shirt off one shoulder, sending that whole side of the garment spilling down her arm and baring the red corset beneath as she tossed her hair saucily as she could manage. “What’s the matter, Captain? Weren’t you expecting a ready wench in your quarters?” she simpered naughtily, hoping he coudln’t see the way her lips trembled. “I gathered from your sailors this was a common prize they offered you upon a successful haul.”

Killian blinked at her owlishly, and she could see his throat working as he tried to speak. Even as she felt a flush crawling up every inch of her skin, she was pleased to note that he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes off her, whatever else he might be thinking. Maybe he really had swallowed his tongue.

Finally, he wet his lips and managed to rasp, “B-bloody hell, Lass! What is going on?” He shoved a hand through his wind-ruffled dark hair, making it all the more pleasingly disheveled and took a hesitant step towards her, but he was clearly awaiting an answer.

“Isn’t that obvious, Hook?” she asked seductively, even as she felt her cheeks burning, knowing the red of them must be visible even in the flickering low light, letting her lips caress his more colorful moniker accompanied with an arch of her brow. Swallowing hard, she stood and moved to meet him, shrugging the shirt off the rest of the way, letting it fall to pool around her feet and baring the rest of her ensemble to his eyes - corset, stockings, garters and all.

“N-not completely,” he managed, eyes wide as saucers, looking truly surprised and knocked offguard in a way she had rarely ever seen.

“Hmm,” she hummed, eyes glinting playfully, as she drew nearer, tracing a finger enticingly along the top of the corset before coming within his reach. “I must admit, I’m disappointed. The stories would have led me to believe you were a pirate who knew what he wanted - and wasn’t afraid to take it.”

His hands reached out almost as if against his will and jerked her hips forward into his with a guttural sort of growl. “Swan,” he breathed against her neck, fingers running restlessly along her bare hip at the line of skin beneath the edge of the corset, his stunned uncertainty leaving him and smouldering seduction taking over. “You’re playing with fire, Darling.”

Breaking from his hold, she turned away, sashaying toward the foot of their bed with a low, throaty taunt. “Mmm, now that sounds more like the pirate I expected,” she offered, stopping just as her knees brushed the edge of the mattress to toss a challenging look over her shoulder at him, skating the tip of her tongue across her upper lip as she did. “Maybe I’m looking to fan the flames.”

Brazenly, she bent at the waist, making as if to unfasten the garters that held up her stockings and roll them down her leg, but rather obviously using the opportunity to stick her barely covered backside out in her direction, in what she hoped was a salacious sort of invitation rather than looking ridiculous. She was barely covered, having gone with a modern scrap of black lace, rather than trying to guess what sort of old-fashioned undergarments might go with her themed get-up.

However, Emma had gotten no further than reaching for the garter fastenings before she was suddenly in Killian’s grasp once more. He seemed to have crossed the room in an instant - soundlessly - and his whole body was pressed up against hers from behind, hot and hard, and exactly where she wanted him. His firm hand caught hers, pulling it away from the fastener she’d been about to undo, and his voice in her ear just before he nipped the lobe enough to make her jerk with surprise in his hold was an order. “Leave them on,” his words rasped, sounding almost wild with lust and not at all as controlled and doting as usual.

The shivers that ran through her at the order, at his tone, at the way he was holding her so tightly, pressing them together, her back to his front, all along their bodies, stole her ability to respond entirely. Shaking her head dutifully, she merely let go, putty in his hands.

“That’s right, isn’t it, wench? A night with your Captain is what you’ve been asking for, and soon, I’ll have you begging.” Gently, in contrast to the cool power that had crept into his voice, an echo of the past she had never fully known, he brought his hook arm around her torso to steady her as he bent her over further, curling around her as she was lowered toward the mattress, while his hips rutted maddeningly against hers. Even through his clothes, she could feel the solid, hot weight of him slanting along her sex, giving just enough pressure against the thin material of her now soaked panties, and then pulling away again to drive her completely crazy.

Emma bit back a strangled whine of frustration when her husband abruptly stood and drew back. It was only seconds though before she realized he was shucking off his jacket, jeans and shirt, hearing the items of clothing hitting the floor in rapid succession had her heart hammering in her throat even harder than before. With a deft, quick slice of his hook, Emma couldn’t help but gasp at the cool air that hit her intimately bared skin as the silky material of her panties fell away, Killian having cut them from her body with one agile motion.

Her body jerked as he gave a light swat of his hand to her hip, arousal flooding her and making her feel suffused with warmth as his voice, a darkly decadent purr, enveloped her. “Up on the bed now, Lass. Lie down and let me look at you.”

Emma scrambled to do as he said; her aim and goal completely forgotten now as she crawled up to the head of the bed, chest heaving like the heroine in some Harlequin romance in the corset and her lower half completely open to his gaze, only the stockings and garters covering any bit of her below the waist from his burning blue gaze.

Under Killian’s scrutiny, Emma was tempted to squirm and indeed beg him to hurry up and take her, or to try to hide herself from the intensity of his stare. But then he dove in, covering her body with his own; firm, muscled legs bracketing hers between his own and his weight pressing her firmly, deliciously into their mattress.

Before she knew what had hit her, Kilian was working lips and tongue and teeth along her neck and collarbone, while his hand encircled both her wrists to press them to the pillow over her head. “Leave those there,” he intoned, feasting on her skin until she felt sensation prickling all over her and she was wriggling and writhing in his hold again, just desperate to pull him into her waiting heat. When his hand left hers where he had placed them, and began to run down inside the front of the corset, pinching and rolling her nipples when he found them and eventually working one breast free for his ministrations. Emma wasn’t sure how much more she could take before she exploded. And then, as if to prove there was still more, Killian’s teeth closed on her shoulder, biting down just as the cool steel of his hook touched her nipple, circling it and pressing just the right side of sharply. It felt as though she’d been struck by a bolt of electricity, crumbling and coming back together as she flailed her arms helplessly, her fingers grasping at his biceps and the covers beneath her, trying to hold on or maybe even crawl inside him.

“Ah ah...obey the rules now,” he tsked, trapping her errant hands against the rumpled bedspread once more. “I believe I said these were to stay here, no?”

Breathless and dazed, Emma could only stare at him, nodding mutely with glazed eyes. Killian grinned down at his wife devilishly, arching his dark brow as he flexed once more, pressing against her pubic bone and ghosting his length just along where she wanted him, teasing her even as she keened at the sensation and tried to buck in his hold, aching for release.

“Now, now,” he crooned, sensing he had given his love nearly all the stimulus she could stand, and in truth barely able to hang on himself with the need to be inside her, joined as closely as they could possibly be at last. “Shh...shh…” he soothed, dropping the formidable captain’s facade for a moment to brush sweaty tendrils of hair from her face. Emma’s eyes fluttered closed, seeming to relax and finally draw a full, deep breath at the tender touch. “There’s a good girl,” he continued gently moving enough to free her legs and settle between them, his breath catching once more as he traced his hand up her thigh and felt his cock twitch and swell impossibly yet again at the sensation of those garters under his fingers as he flicked the strap, snapping it playfully against her skin.

Emma had opened her mouth to protest when he then finally allowed himself to enter her, all at once, thrusting in to the hilt with how wet and ready she was, finally sliding home deep within her. Whatever sharp word had been on her tongue turned into a wordless cry of pleasure, her legs clamping around his hips as if to hold him there forever - not that he would fight that - and her head tossed from side to side restlessly as she began to plead in his name as he picked up the rhythm they had perfected together but which never ceased to take him over and possess him as it had the first time.

It didn’t take long for either of them after such a build up, and after what seemed little time at all in such ecstasy, he was spilling himself with a shout and clutching her to his chest, even as he felt her quivering and clenching and already coming down from where she had crested just before him.

Rolling to her side before he crushed her when his arms gave out, Killian nuzzled his nose into the side of his wife’s face, brushing a careful finger over where there was a bit of an imprint of his teeth on her shoulder. “Was that alright, Emma?” he murmured, sure she had egged on and very much enjoyed such a furious coupling, but yet never wanting to do anything to hurt her.

His wife rolled onto her side to face him, tracing a soft finger over his furrowed brow. “Very much okay,” she affirmed with an impish, if exhausted, smile. “Perfect, really.”

“Are you sure, Love?”

“Killian,” she sighed, leveling him with her gaze. “I promise. I wanted to give you a little bit of an old world evening - maybe that night we could have spent in the past, just a bar wench and a pirate captain. It sounded like fun - certainly not something done against my will. Okay?”

He nodded at that, meeting her tender smile with one of his own and gladly taking her at her word. “But beyond that…” here she swallowed a bit nervously before pressing on. “I wanted to say thank you. I love this life we’ve made together - here in this place and time. But you gave up another one, where you were at home. And I have to think you must sometimes miss a few things as they were. So I was trying to bring a tiny bit of that here.”

An awed, admiring smile quirked his lips as he playfully cupped her chin and pulled Emma in close to wrap her in his arms. “You’re too good to me, Swan,” he vowed, meaning every word with all his heart. “Nothing I might miss from my life before could equal what I have gained in loving, and being loved by, you.”

She nodded, curling into his embrace. “Good,” she mumbled almost sleepily, her satisfaction and fading adrenaline making her quickly lose the fight against encroaching slumber with her husband holding her close. “Just get me out of this tortue device then, and we’ll call it even.”

Killian’s surprised laugh burst out and made her insides flutter with joy as he rolled her over to see the hook and eye closures down the back of the corset. “As you wish, of course. But just as I said on our little adventure in the past, when I first saw you in one of these, your discomfort is a cross I’m willing to bear.”

“Very funny,” she groused, though she knew he was only kidding, her comfort and security always first in his mind as he had long ago proved. Soon he was deftly using hand and hook to loosen the closures fastening the garment. When it parted, Emma let out a breath of relief, and shivered again with awareness as Killian also removed the garter belt, fingers delving between her thighs while he did so as if he couldn’t resist plundering the treasure before him once more, then rolling the stockings down her legs and off her toes. As his hand smoothed back up her spine, she swore her skin sizzled in his fingers’ wake. Maybe they wouldn’t be sleeping quite yet...


End file.
